Un Mille de Temps
by RammJam
Summary: Was it cold, after? Did you feel...empty, or anything? Kentophe /Complete


Fandom: South Park  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kole/Kentophe  
Prompt: _Death_  
Title: "Un Mille de Temps" - A Thousand Time[s]  
Rating: T  
Warning(s): Talk of Death, Smoking, Angst, Fluff  
Word Count: 767  
Disclaimer: I do not own _South Park_. They belong to their respective company(ies). I am not gaining anything out of this, except for a few smiles and laughs and 'awe's. Maybe. Hopefully. Just, don't sue me, 'Kay?  
A/N: Ah love these two. And this is _very_ light fluff and, erm...romance, if you wish to take it that far. It's the first thing I've ever written for South Park and so I modified to make it longer than was originally written. I also only took one year of French and that was two years ago so...most of the French here (and anywhere else Mole is involved) was googled, so sorry if it's wrong. ...Enjoy!

"(It didn't..._hurt..._did it?)"

Christophe looked up from lighting his cigarette, mildly surprised to see the teen infront of him. They rarely spoke but that was mostly because Christophe kept to himself and whenever he did go around the group, Kenny was dead. It was a strange place for them to meet, anyways, in the middle of the woods behind Stark's Pond, sunlight drifting through the trees though not hitting either boy.

"Hmm?"

Kenny twitched a little, fingers playing with his parka's strings. After a moment he pulled the hood back so he could be heard better, blond hair poking out a little. "It doesn't hurt me," he said instead, fingers darting back to his drawstrings, "I'm surprised at first, but it never really hurts. Not anymore, atleast."

Christophe made a small, happy noise as his cigarette finally lit, taking a deep breath of the fumes as he gave a gentle pat to the dirt next to him. Kenny hesitated.

"Ah do not bite, Kennee. Sit, _s'il te plaît_."

With a soft intake of air, Kenny moved to plop down next to the mercenary. His fingers gripped at the base of the tree they were leaning against, already dirty fingers playing along the roots weaving in and out of the ground. His eyes scanned the peaceful area, listening to the birds sing their songs and the little animals dart across the forest floor.

"You are vanteeing to know of my death, _oui_?"

The blond's eyes flickered up to Christophe and he nodded in confirmation before adding, "Uh_...oui_..._s'il te_...please."

The mercenary grinned faintly before it faded behind his cigarette, watching with detatched interest as the smoke slipped from his mouth, disappearing upwards. "You die a lot-"

"Almost twice a week."

A small nod, the brunet looked slightly ticked off at being interrupted, but let it slide, continuing with a flick of his wrist to get rid of the excess ash on his smoke. "_Oui_. And Ah 'ave onlee died once...Vyee do you vant to know 'ow Ah felt?"

Kenny bit his bottom lip, staring at the ground, gaze flickering from there to the cigarette as he thought, struggling to find a suitable answer for the Frenchman. How was he supposed to explain how alone he was? He didn't show it but he was terrified to go anywhere nowadays; feared what was just around the corner. Anything could kill him, and no one understood.

The silence continued and Christophe, almost done with his cigarette, spoke.

"It did not 'urt too much. It vas veree shoking, and so sudden. But Ah vas so fokused on speaking to Kylee z'at Ah vas dead ze next moment."

Kenny's eyes shot up to the other teen's face the moment he began speaking, listening intently and nodding along with his words. "Was it cold, after? Did you feel...empty, or anything?"

"_Non_...more like, ah...floating, _oui_? Floating far away." His index finger rose with his words, swirling in a few circles as it drifted upwards in show. Kenny eagerly nodded and to the soldier's slight surprised, began to smile.

"Yeah! It's like that, too, whenever it's the slow deaths..." his voiced trailed off as he shifted his weight, crossing his legs. "Are you ever...scared?" he asked after another moment of silence, eyes on his jeans as his fingers picked at one of the holes there.

"Not veree much, _non_," Christophe answered after a moment of thought, flicking his smoke away after smothering it out on the ground, "Ah go on, and if eet iz my time to die once more, z'en let it be so." he paused in his careful speech, watching out of the corner of his eye the forming crestfallen face of the other teen. He sighed, moving to face Kenny better. He reached a calloused hand up to run it through the tuft of hair poking out and down to his cheek. Kenny jumped a little at the sudden contact, wide blue eyes locking with calm brown ones.

"But Ah vould die _Un Mille de Temps_ - a _z'ouusand_ timez - over if eet meant z'at z'ose who cannot come bak remain safe and alive, _mon petit chéri_."


End file.
